Clothes
by sevenphoenixtears
Summary: A letter of the good times and the bad. Reminders are everywhere, and Remus has difficulty moving on. "Peter killed more than just James and Lily that night. We were brothers, and he killed that."


**AN: I would appreciate any reviews you have, thank you for reading.**

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It annoyed me, did you know? When you used to borrow my clothes. I'd be tearing through my trunk to find a shirt, and I'd look across the dorm at you. Glancing at the imaginary watch on your wrist with a teasing look of impatience on your face (as if I were keeping you from your breakfast) - wearing my shirt. It happened more often than not, because my clothes were always clean, and your clothes had made a home for themselves on the floor, on top of Peter's trunk, even under James' bed. I'd see my only jacket on the floor by your bed; wrinkled and sprayed with mud because you'd worn it out flying. I'd even see my socks on your feet (brown with silver moons), socks that _you _had given _me_ for Christmas.

Eventually, it didn't bother me anymore. I actually kind of liked it; that you'd wear my clothes. I don't know why, it was just something we shared. Something you only did with me (maybe only because James and Peter's dirty washing piles were just as large as yours), but I always knew you'd give me the shirt off your back, and I'd do the same for you. And that's what we were doing. We were so close. I never had a brother, but I found one in you, and in James, and in Peter. We were brothers, and to lend you a shirt, or a jacket, or even a pair of socks, was nothing (and at the same time, everything) to me.

Life is a circle, I know you know that. All that time passed… we had lost so much time, Peter killed more than just James and Lily that night. We were brothers, and he killed that. Harry had a loving family, and he killed that too. It had been 20 years, but I was so happy to have you back and we fell back into old habits quickly. Living with you was easy, but more than anything, I loved having my brother back. We'd have breakfast together in the mornings; I'd read the paper, and you'd talk about weird dreams you had, and greasy Potions Masters who dared to enter your house, and new plans to destroy your mothers painting, and Harry. Life was never going to be the same as it was; Azkaban, death, and betrayal had taken a spark from your eyes, and we'd both lost too much. But you were happy. I was happy.

Some days I'm still not quite sure how I carry on without both of you. All these years later and I don't know how I feel about the clothes: because everything smells like you. Everything reminds me of you. A singed sock - that time you got too close to the fireplace one night after one too many Firewhiskeys. A coffee-stained shirt - when Kreacher crept up on you during breakfast and you jumped, cursing, yelling, complaining of second degree burns, and damned, ancient house-elves. Even the clothes that are clean seem to have your scent woven into the fabric. I cleaned out my drawers and packed my trunk. Because I had to get away from breakfasts with you, and plans with you, and drinks with you, and worrying over Harry with you; though I could never let you go.

I didn't think I could carry on without my brothers. I knew only that someone needed to be here in this life when Harry fell, and I can honour my brothers best by being that person. I still make mistakes, there are parts of me missing so I do the best I can with what I have. I protect and love Harry with everything that I have left. I made plans with Dumbledore to spy on werewolves, because I knew it was the only thing I could do to help end this war. I spent more and more time with werewolves, underground and spying. I didn't have to keep clean and well dressed. I could forget about our shirts, and our jackets, and our socks. I could forget about what you smell like, if only for a while.

No one touched your room after you left, but today I put some of my clothes into your drawer - because what is mine has always been yours. I'm having a son, Padfoot, and I'm moving in with Tonks today. I am going to fight in this war with everything that I have left. There are still people I love here, that you loved here, and I know it's what you would do too. You never did go down without a fight.

So, until the end, Padfoot,

Moony


End file.
